


Midnight

by lukeswheeze1d



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24607042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukeswheeze1d/pseuds/lukeswheeze1d
Summary: "Michael, I never see you during the day. Why do you only see me in the night?""Luke, it's not that simple. I have to hide away. They're after me.""Who? Who's after you?""You wouldn't understand."“Then help me understand.”Michael was framed for murder with police chasing him at every turn. He hides away in Luke's treehouse and stays there for a long time. Eventually, Luke finds him and is curious to know more about him but Michael won't open up. Night time is the only time Michael will ever speak and show himself to Luke, that way he can't actually see him.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Some people say that your childhood is the best time in your life. It’s the time that shapes your adulthood and the person you are today. Childhood is the time for children to be in school and play, to grow strong and confident with the love and encouragement of their family and an extended community of caring adults. 

For Michael Clifford, his childhood was filled with fantasies. He got his first superhero comic when he was four and fell in love instantly. The illustrations, the characters, the powers, the storyline. Everything about the world of comics fascinated Michael. He wished it was all real. He wished he had powers of his own, so he could show off to people at school and hopefully get noticed by someone, even maybe a pretty girl.

“Michael, stop wriggling!” Michael’s mum, Karen scolded, hitting her son softly on the shoulder. 

Michael giggled and kept a wide grin on his face as his mum fixed his silky red cape and put on his black eye mask. 

“What’s this for again?” Karen asked, cocking her head to the side slightly. 

“To fend off evil, mum!” Michael cried, jumping up and striking a power pose. 

Karen laughed lightly and snapped a quick picture before moving Michael in front of the mirror.

“How does it look, Mike-Ro-Wave?” Karen whispered in Michael’s ear. 

Michael looked at his reflection, smiling at the red body suit, black kneepads, knee-high striped socks, black and white underwear, elbow-length black leather gloves, lightning bolt face mask and long red cape that flowed all the way just below his knees. 

“It’s great! Thanks mum,” Michael smiled, turning around and hugging his mum tightly. 

Karen smiled and hugged him back before pulling away and telling him to fight some evil. Michael nodded with a determined grin before running to the house next to him and knocking repetitively on the window next to the door. He stepped back and giggled nervously, waiting for his best friend to let him in. 

“Hello?” A small voice whispered before the door opened, revealing a boy, only two years older than Michael.

“Calum! Wanna go play?” Michael grinned excitedly. 

The boy smiled and nodded before turning his head and calling out to his mum, asking if he could leave with Michael, to which she replied with a non-hesitant yes. Calum grinned and quickly stepped outside with Michael, hugging him quickly before taking a proper look at him. 

“Whoa! I love your costume! Where’d you get it?” Calum asked, a look of amazement on his face. 

“My mum made it for me.” Michael smiled. “She could make one for you too! But she’s only got green and yellow fabric left... She’d have to go to the shop... But hey! I think green and yellow could suit you!” 

Calum laughed lightly. “Green and yellow? I feel like I’d be sponsored by the Australian Olympics team!”

Michael laughed and shoved Calum’s arm lightly, causing the older boy to gasp and grip it tightly in mock pain.

“You dare shove me, mortal?!” Calum growled; his voice deeper. “You shall feel the wrath of Cal-Pal!” 

“Not if Mike-Ro-Wave can stop it!” Michael giggled. 

Calum picked up a long stick from the ground and stepped back, taking a running start at Michael. Michael smirked and quickly crab-walked to the side, out of the way of Calum. Calum gasped loudly in mock surprise and dropped the stick. 

Michael’s dimpled grin lit up his face as he jumped, landing in a pose, showing he was ready to fight with his fists held up high. He slowly moved one arm towards Calum, gesturing for him to come closer with a wave of his hand. 

“You shall suffer against my power, you grackton!” Calum cried. “I will rule your city!”

“Grackton?” Michael grinned, breaking character for a moment. 

“Yeah, it’s my catchphrase.” Calum giggled, shrugging his shoulders. 

“You shall not conquer Sydney, you villain.” Michael spoke confidently before attempting to do a cartwheel towards the older boy, but instead falling flat onto his face. 

“Aha!” Calum cried, gently resting his foot on Michael’s back, “I have defeated Mike-Ro-Wave! From this day, Cal-Pal will rule Sydney, nay, THE WORLD!” 

“I will have my revenge!” Michael yelled, shaking his fist angrily in the air. 

Calum laughed and helped the younger boy to his feet. The two walked down to the park, where they continued their epic battle.


	2. Chapter 2

6 years later... 

“Michael... Michael!” 

Michael snapped his eyes open, now awoken from his slumber. He lifted his head up to discover he’d fallen asleep at his desk again, drooling all over his study book. He rubbed his neck, internally groaning at the ache that came whenever he moved it. He got up and trudged downstairs, trying to wake himself up by sending soft taps to his face.

“Yeah, mum?” Michael tried calling out, sighing as the voice died in his throat. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah, mum?”

“Mikey, help me cook this pasta, will you?” Karen called from the kitchen.

Michael quickly made his way to the kitchen, standing behind her mum at the stove and gently taking the spoon from her, stirring the pasta sauce. 

“I’m so late,” Karen muttered, running to the fridge and grabbing out a bottle of water. “Just eat what you want. I’ll have mine when I get home.”

“Wait, late for what?” 

“My interview, honey. I can’t be late. Oh, where’s my purse?” 

“Mum, you were supposed to take me to my mate’s place!” Michael whined. 

“Which mate?” Karen asked. “Oh there it is.”

“Mum! I said this this morning! It’s the one who lives in the city!” 

“I’m sorry, love. Take the car, yeah?” Karen shrugged, before leaving out the front, slamming the door unintentionally behind her. 

“But I’m only...” Michael sighed. “Fifteen...”

Michael turned his attention back to the food and shut it off, before shoving all of it into a Tupperware container and putting it in the fridge. His mum could deal with it when she got home. 

Under normal circumstances, Michael would’ve just gone back upstairs, but he never sees this friend outside of school and they had an assignment to finish. He’d lost his bus ticket weeks ago and probably didn’t have enough money to pay for one so he decided walking there was his best and only option. 

He sent his friend a quick text saying he’d be a bit late and slipped his phone into his pocket, ignoring its critically low battery. 

Michael began to grow tired walking so long and he wasn’t even halfway there. The cold air was piercing his skin and he wished he actually brought a jumper. 

“Just a few more kilometres...” He whispered to himself.

Suddenly, a loud bang of a gunshot being fired rang through his ears, startling Michael and making him stumble back at the shock. A piercing scream quickly followed from the same direction. Quiet whimpers told Michael he was actually fairly close to what was going on and he swore he could smell the blood. 

Michael’s childhood taught him bravery. From years of reading Stan Lee’s comic books and years of play fighting with Calum shaped who he was today. He was a fighter. He was a fighter who believed he could save innocent people from getting hurt.

He burst through the door and stopped at the sight before him. He'd never seen anything as gory as this but he refused to let it scare him. 

A man, probably only older than Michael by a few years, had another man chained up against a wall. The younger man looked to be his age, maybe younger by a few months. The younger man's wrists were restrained and hanging up above his head. Blood was seeping from his scalp, side, chest and various cuts and scrapes everywhere. There was no way he was still alive. The older man took one look at Michael and scrammed, not saying a word. 

“Hey!” Michael yelled, trying to get the older man’s attention and simultaneously startle the younger man awake. 

It didn’t work. 

The man didn’t turn back or even make a sound of acknowledgement to Michael’s existence and the younger boy definitely didn’t move a muscle. Michael blinked, deciding he shouldn’t bother to run after him; the police would find him. He kneeled in front of the younger man, checking to see if he had a pulse. 

"Stop right there!" 

Michael jumped and looked up at the half dozen policeman standing in the doorway, handguns drawn. He wanted to put his hands up and blurt out that he was innocent, that he hadn't done anything but his body moved against him. He bolted quickly to a different entrance, somehow avoiding the bullets being shot at him. 

He heard shouts from behind him, demanding him to stop and face the cops but he didn't want to. Something tells him that these cops weren't up for discussion.

He ran for what felt like hours before he collapsed in front of a house. He looked behind him and saw headlights in the distance. Groaning in exhaustion, he climbed over the back fence and climbed a tree, which he soon discovered to be a treehouse. He pulled back the flap and jumped in, seeking refuge in the small enclosed area.

He whimpered, shivering from the cold as he brought his knees up to his chest, trying to keep some body warmth. 

"Luke, what are you saying?" 

Luke had sat his parents down in front of him. He'd been locked up in the closet, too scared to come out for years and he finally felt it was the time to tell his family, beginning with his parents. He was gay and he couldn't hide who he was anymore.

"I like guys, dad." Luke whispered.

"What, as in friends?" Luke's dad asked. 

"No, romantically." Luke mumbled. 

"You don't like guys. I refuse to accept that."

"Andrew." Luke's mum snapped.

"No, Liz. This is just a phase. It'll pass." Andrew sighed, getting up and leaving.

Liz seemed to notice the tears welling in the sixteen-year-old boy's eyes and pulled him in for a hug, telling him that she supported him and she loved him. 

"I'll talk to dad, okay?" She whispered, pulling away. 

Luke nodded and stared at his feet. He knew it was a bad idea to come out. Why was it even necessary that they had to know anyway? It was his life. Who cares if he wanted to marry and settle down with a guy? 

Liz gave Luke's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading in the direction Andrew went. Luke sighed and headed outside to his treehouse. His brothers, Jack and Ben built it for him when he was younger. He'd climb up there whenever he was in a pickle or upset. Whether he wanted a way to refuse doing the dishes or he wanted to hide away from his father who didn't accept him as gay.

He sniffed and climbed the ladder, blindly crawling into the treehouse. He sat down in the corner and began to sob quietly. Suddenly, a hand was slapped over his mouth, causing the older boy to scream.

"Shh, shh!" 

Luke's eyes widened and he looked at the source of the voice. He couldn't see a face but he could see the outline of a small boy.

"Who are you?" Luke tried to say, but it ended up being a muffled mess, thanks to the hand over his mouth. 

"Promise you won't scream if I take my hand away? Or run away?" The boy whispered. 

Luke nodded desperately; his eyes wide. The boy slowly moved his hand and the two fell silent. Luke's heart was still racing a mile a minute as he panted slightly from shock and adrenaline. 

"Why were you crying?" The boy asked.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" Luke asked, simultaneously dodging the question. 

"Michael, and I can't tell you why I'm here." Michael whispered. 

"At least come into the light. I wanna see you." Luke whispered.

Michael gulped in fear and shook his head. He figured that all of this would go on the news and he didn't want Luke being scared of him before he even knew him. 

"No, I can't." Michael whispered. 

"How old are you, Mike?" Luke muttered, making Michael's heart flutter at the new nickname. 

"Fifteen." Michael smiled.

"I’m sixteen," Luke smiled. "So, how long have you been here?"

"I- I don't know, not long." Michael mumbled, shivering from the cold. He was wearing jeans and a three-quarter sleeve flannel shirt but the harsh winter weather still made it cold. 

"Are you cold? Want me to get you a blanket?" 

"Mmhmm.”

Luke nodded and climbed down the tree to grab Michael a blanket. While he was inside, he also grabbed a pillow and some left-over sausages from the fridge. 

"Here," Luke smiled once he finally climbed back up. 

"Thank you so much," Michael whispered, quick to wrap himself in the blanket and devour the sausages. He never did have dinner at home, after all.

"You can stay up here. Don't worry, no one comes up here besides me." Luke offered. 

"Thank you."

"How long are you gonna be here for?"

Michael stopped chewing and swallowed thickly. He honestly hadn't given it any thought. He couldn't go home, that'd be the first place the police look. 

Luke seemed to notice Michael's sudden panicked silence and smiled. 

"You can stay here for as long as you like." 

Michael smiled and hugged Luke, burying his face in his chest. 

"Thank you so much."


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, slow down! You’re gonna make yourself sick!” Luke said with a giggle as Michael gobbled down the four slices of bread Luke had stuffed in his pockets when he was clearing the table after dinner. 

“Thank you so much,” Michael whispered. 

“When was the last time you ate?” Luke asked curiously. “Besides from now, obviously.” 

Michael looked down and sighed. He hadn’t had any more than the bread and small snacks Luke had been giving him in over a week. He desperately wanted to walk down to the local supermarket but he knew, he was only “caught” eight days ago and the heat and paranoia would still be strong. He couldn’t go anywhere. 

Luke seemed to take Michael’s silence as an answer and sighed. It wasn’t fair that anyone had to live like this. He wondered whether his house was the first place Michael had stayed, and how long he’d been out on his own for. Luke was determined to find out everything he could about the younger boy, and when he did, he was going to make everything better. 

“And in other news, a teenage girl has been missing for three days. If you see anyone with the description of an average height of five foot four...”

“You always watch the news. Haven’t you got anything better to binge?” Luke commented, flopping down on the couch next to his mum. 

“Not really. Plus, it’s educational.” Liz replied. “How’d your Spanish test go?”

“Terrible. I’d be surprised if I get a C, D even.” Luke mumbled, slouching and staring at the tv without actually paying attention to what was going on. 

“Oh honey, I’m sure you did great. Don’t doubt yourself,” Liz sighed. 

“Mum, I’m so far behind everyone else. I can’t even-”

Luke cut himself off when he heard the front door close, signalling someone had walked into the house. Oh, please let it be one of his brothers. 

“Ben, you ass, that’s mine!” Luke’s brother, Jack cried. 

“Jack- Fuck off- No! Get off me!” 

“Boys, calm down.” Andrew growled. 

Luke’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach at the sound of his father’s voice. He wasn’t entirely sure it was going to happen, but Luke didn’t really want to be yelled at by his father for being gay right now. 

Liz seemed to notice Luke’s sudden tension and rubbed his back in small circles, trying to soothe the younger boy. Luke looked up at her and gulped, silently pleading for her to go and stall his dad. Somehow, Liz understood and got up to talk to Andrew. Must be that mother telepathy everyone talks about. 

Luke directs his attention back to the tv, trying to slow his breathing and stay calm. So far, he was doing just fine. 

“Eight days ago, Harry Dawkins was murdered at Webbs Avenue, Hornsby. A young boy, around the age of fifteen was seen fleeing from the scene. Footage captured this picture of the boy. If you see him, please contact your local police station immediately. Police are yet to...”

Luke sighed and looked out the window, gazing at the treehouse. He hoped Michael was drinking the water and eating the chips Luke left for him. Luke would try to spend as much time as he could with Michael but a few days prior, Luke went up during the day only to see Michael quickly cover his face with a pillow, followed by cries of “go away” and quiet sobbing. Luke didn’t understand why Michael didn’t want him to see his face, he was probably beautiful. He could just tell by the sound of his voice. 

But alas, Michael won’t let Luke see him. One day. One day he swears he’ll see his face and find out what’s really happening. 

It wasn’t until around ten at night when the sun had fully set, making it time Luke visited Michael in the treehouse. 

“Hey Mikey,” Luke whispered, climbing into the treehouse. 

“Lukey!” Michael smiled, eagerly getting up and hugging the slightly older boy. 

“You miss me, did you?” 

“So much.”

“Or did you just miss the food I bring you?” Luke grinned, pulling a wrapped burrito from under his shirt and passing it to Michael. 

Michael grinned and took the wrap excitedly, ripping the wrapper off in under a second and immediately digging in to the Mexican dinner. 

“Thank you so much, Lukey.” Michael mumbled, his mouth full of food. 

Luke smiled and sat down across from the younger boy on a grey beanbag. He listened to the chirping crickets, enjoying the comfortable silence that fell over the two of them. 

“There was an article on the news today,” Luke murmured, looking out of the window. 

Michael swallowed thickly and bit his lip, staring at his lap. “Y- Yeah? What about?”

“A murderer’s on the loose. Make sure you stay safe and look out for anyone with straight brown hair, green eyes, around five foot nine, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, yeah?” 

Michael closed his eyes and inhaled shakily as Luke listed all the vital details you’d need to match the “murderer” to himself. 

“I wanna know something,” Luke whispered. 

“Luke, I’m not-”

"Michael, I never see you during the day. Why do you only see me in the night?"

"Luke, it's not that simple. I have to hide away. They're after me." 

"Who? Who's after you?" 

"You wouldn't understand."

“Then help me understand.”

Michael took a deep breath and looked at Luke, staring into his bright blue eyes, filled with curiosity and wonder.

“I can’t,” Michael finally whispered before wrapping a soft blanket around himself as he closed his eyes. 

Luke sighed before silence fell upon the two, Luke telepathically begging Michael to open up and tell him what was going on. Moments passed and Luke sighed again, getting up. 

“Well,” Luke shrugged. “Try and get some sleep, yeah?”

“Goodnight,” Michael mumbled, cuddling in closer to the wall. 

“Goodnight,” Luke whispered before stepping down the ladder and going back inside.


	4. Chapter 4

“I told you so,” Luke sighed, slamming his book down on the bench. 

“Told me what, honey?” Liz asked, pushing Luke’s hair out of his face. 

“I got a D in my Spanish exam,” Luke mumbled, slumping forward in his chair and resting his head on his arms. 

“Did you do your best?” Liz questioned, sliding into the seat next to her youngest son and rubbing his back. 

“I don’t know... I guess? I mean, I did so bad...” Luke mumbled, wiping tears from his eyes. 

“Lukey, I don’t care what grade you got. You tried your best. That’s all I ask of you.”

“But Jack and Ben get straight As in everything.” Luke whispered, sitting up and furiously wiping his eyes. 

“You’re not Ben and Jack, Luke. You make your own path. As long as you tried your best, you’re an A+ in my books.” 

Luke smiled up at his mum. She always knew exactly what to say and exactly what to do to wash his worries away. He always struggled with having the thought that he would need to live up to both his brother’s reputations. Both of them were top-level students who got As in every subject and always loved by every teacher. Luke however, was what some people would consider a reject. For most subjects, he barely got by with a C. He would try. He would really try but he just couldn’t seem to be able to retain and withhold half the information he was given. Thankfully, he did have a subject he could shine with; music. He’d picked up the guitar back in primary school and since discovered he didn’t have a bad vocal range, making him practice more often and even post videos of him singing covers online sometimes. He actually blames his own lower education in other subjects on music, since he spends so much time strumming away at his guitar instead of actually studying. 

“Thanks mum,” Luke smiled weakly before standing up and sitting on the couch in front of the TV. He should probably get out of his school uniform but honestly, he was too tired. Instead, he focused his attention on the TV, which was already playing the News. Figures. 

“And in other news, police were able to find the name of the suspected murder of Harry Dawkins who was murdered two weeks ago on Webbs Street. Michael Clifford was last seen wearing black skinny jeans, a red and black flannel shirt and beige boots. Please keep a look out for him and I’d advise you, please don’t get close. Contact the police and report the sighting immediately.”

Luke’s face paled as he swallowed thickly. Two weeks ago, a boy named Michael showed up in his treehouse right after the murder. This couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 

No, it had to be. Michael was way too sweet and way too timid to have the mind of a murderer. No, it could make sense. Maybe he was forced to kill someone and it traumatised him. No. He couldn’t be that stupid. “They’re after me.” Fuck, it all makes sense. No. Luke refused to believe it. He’d have to get real confirmation from Michael himself. 

Luke looked outside, noticing it was still bright outside but honestly, it gave him more of an excuse to see Michael’s face without needing a flashlight or anything. 

Luke felt a small amount of anger rise in him. He was mad that Michael would take advantage of him for so long, that he would act like this shy, cute ball of... of... selfishness. He also felt mad at himself for being so blind and naive to what was right in front of him.

He stood up, storming outside and ignoring his mum’s questions of “where are you going?” and “what are you doing?” He climbed the rope ladder up to the treehouse like he’d done so many times. He tried to calm his breathing and did his best to avoid punching something... or someone.

“Michael.” Luke spat. 

“Luke- I- You can't-” Michael mumbled, hastily pulling the black beanie Luke had lent him over his face and bringing his knees up to his chest. 

Luke looked in the corner of the treehouse to see black skinny jeans and a black and white flannel top folded neatly with beige boots and a pair of socks sat atop of them. 

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Luke whispered. “Who the fuck are you?! Really?” 

“Luke, please. You have to go,” Michael whispered, gripping the beanie tighter. 

“I saw the news.” Luke spat. 

Michael’s blood ran cold. They must of figured it all out. He must’ve figured it all out. 

“Luke, please. I’m not-”

“Take the beanie off!” Luke yelled. 

Michael bit his lip. He knew he couldn’t squirm his way out of this situation. Luke was going to find out— it was inevitable. At least this way, since Luke may not have a phone on him, Michael could tell him the truth and he wouldn’t run straight to the police. 

“Michael!” Luke yelled, impatiently. 

Michael felt the tears drip out of his eyes as he slowly pulled the beanie off, his eyes switching between looking at Luke and his own lap, biting his lip. Luke let a quiet gasp fall from his lips. Michael looked exactly like the blurry, low-quality photo the news station released with the article. 

“Please, please, I’m begging you. Let me explain. Please.” Michael pleaded, wiping his eyes on the bottom of his shirt, revealing a small part of his soft stomach. 

“Why did you use me, Michael?” Luke whispered. “I thought-” 

“Please, Luke. This is hard enough as it is. Just let me do the talking.” 

Luke nodded softly and gestured to Michael with a wave of his hand. Michael cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, readying himself. 

“I’m not a murderer, Luke,” Michael began. “I was walking to a mate’s place and I walked past this abandoned building or something and I saw this guy- Well, I heard a scream first and then I went inside… But this guy… probably a few years older than us… he had another guy… probably younger than us chained up to the wall. He was dead, Luke. The older guy ran away and I checked to see if the younger one was actually dead and the police caught me and thought I- I did it. I got scared… I… I ran away here. I’m so sorry.”

Luke gulped. His gut said to trust him but his brain told him Michael was lying. His heart told him something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was a strange feeling. Sort of like an aching, longing for something that he didn’t understand.

“Luke, say something. Please.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Luke asked bluntly, running his hand through his hair. 

“I thought you’d go to the feds. I didn’t know you that well and I didn’t think you’d listen to my explanation.” Michael mumbled. 

Luke nodded and looked at Michael for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on his eyes for a moment, getting slightly lost in the green orbs, before clearing his throat awkwardly and looking away.

“You do believe me, don’t you?” Michael asked, biting his lip nervously. 

“Yeah,” Luke whispered before his brain could stop him. 

Michael grinned and Luke could’ve sworn his face went redder than Michael’s discarded flannel. He’d never seen him smile and it suited him more than Gucci suits a model. The feeling was familiar to Luke and it scared him. He felt like he was falling in love with Michael but it felt so wrong. Luke had asked out three guys in the past and all of them had slammed him down saying they were straight or otherwise uninterested. It broke his heart every time and he began to lose hope that he’d ever find anyone to spend the rest of his life with. 

“You really trust me?” Michael grinned, his eyes lighting up his entire face. 

“I do.” Luke smiled. 

“You okay? You keep zoning out.” Michael pointed out.

Luke hadn’t even noticed he kept zoning out. It was just something that he does subconsciously that people get rather annoyed about. When he was 13, he had to deliver a farewell speech to the graduating senior students at assembly and accidentally zoned out and trailed off his speech for a full five minutes before a teacher pulled him off stage and angrily told him to get a hold of himself. It’s something he definitely needs to get help with. 

“Luke? I just confessed to you. I think I kind of deserve some sort of insight as to what’s going on. Please. You can trust me.” Michael whispered, gently resting his hand on Luke’s shaking one. 

Luke quickly retreated his hand like Michael’s was on fire, knowing if he kept it there, he’d blurt and confess his feelings. 

“Luke… You’re scaring me,” Michael breathed, looking at Luke with concern, like he could break any minute.

Luke actually noticed himself zone out again but he didn’t stop himself or make any efforts to snap out of it. He thought back to the last two weeks, trying to think of anything Michael has done to make it seem that he liked Luke or that would at least hint to a small amount of gayness. He thought about Michael’s thankful gratitude when Luke gave him his hoodie. He thought about Michael complimenting his cooking and his knack of making milkshakes. He thought about when Luke asked him if Michael would like a cookie and he replied with a high pitch “yass kween”, which everyone knows to be a gay stereotype. 

“I love you,” Luke whispered before he could stop himself. His eyes went wide and his breath hitched in realisation.

Michael’s expression matched his own, a look of shock and confusion planted on his face.

“Luke, I’m not gay.” 

Luke could’ve sworn he could physically feel his heart break in his chest. He let his hands drop to his ankles, gripping them tightly despite the fact that it sent small jolts of pain through his flesh. His nails dug deep into the pale, hairless skin to let out some of the pain he was feeling. A tear rolled down his cheek, triggering another, and another. He told himself to calm down, that he needed to stop crying before Michael would hate him more. He hated himself for being so weak. He hated himself for falling in love so easily. It didn’t seem humane. He’d barely known Michael two weeks yet it felt to Luke like he’d known him all his life and fallen in love years ago. 

But who could blame him? Michael was just so easy to fall in love with. It felt strange how advanced Luke’s feelings got, even though he’d never seen his face before now but he didn’t need that. He fell in love with personality, not physical appearance. 

“Luke... I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry.” Michael whispered, gently stroking his thumb along Luke’s face to wipe away a tear.

Luke retracted his head so fast Michael was surprised he didn’t break his neck. Luke didn’t want to be touched. He was in a fragile state— the same one he always ends up being in when he confesses his love for someone. Straight or not, every guy he told rejected him, saying they just weren’t interested. The closest he’s gotten to a relationship was when he was seven, and a girl in his class was dared to kiss him on the cheek. 

Luke decided in that moment that he had to go. He couldn’t stay there with Michael at the moment. He’d physically shatter. 

“I won’t tell anyone who you are,” Luke hiccupped before swiftly exiting the treehouse and speed walking into his house and up to his room. He picked up random items of clothing, sniffing them briefly to make sure they didn’t reek before stuffing them all inside his duffel bag. He also squeezed in his phone charger and some snacks before swinging the bag over his shoulder. He took one look at his reflection before walking downstairs, past his mum. 

“I’m going to Ashton’s place to study,” Luke called to his mum, trying his hardest not to let his voice waver. 

To his surprise, his mum told him she was fine with it, and even offered him a ride there. Luke declined, deciding that if he walked, it would take longer to get there and back, meaning less time to be around Michael. It seemed selfish to avoid him. Who would bring food up to him and make sure he had enough blankets in this cold winter? The treehouse had no ventilation, after all. 

Luke pushed all his thoughts to the back of his mind and took a deep breath, beginning the long trek to his friend’s house.


	5. Chapter 5

Liz Hemmings spent all her time cleaning when she didn’t have anything else to do. However, this time around, she had already cleaned every spot in the house, the entire property completely immaculate. She decided to do some much needed gardening in the backyard for the day, beginning with mowing the lawn. 

She thought for a moment and thought that it would be a good idea for Luke to come home to a clean treehouse, instead of a messy one that replicates his room. 

Liz climbed the ladder slowly, not going too fast so she wouldn’t injure herself. She pulled back the curtain, her eyes fixated on the floor to see how far up she was. 

“Luke, I need to tell you something,” a voice spoke from inside.

Liz looked up in shock at the unfamiliar voice, her jaw dropping open wide. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Liz gasped. 

“You’re not Luke,” Michael whispered, his eyes going wide. His body was frozen, too shocked to even move and cover his face. 

“Are you that kid who murdered somebody?!” Liz gasped, her hand dropping to her pocket, where her phone was. 

“No, I- Please- Where’s Luke?” Michael begged, his arm reaching out to help himself up on a ledge next to the door frame. 

“What, so you can murder him too?” Liz accused. 

“No, I would never! Please, trust me!”

“No. I’m calling the police, Michael. You’re going to jail where you belong.” 

Michael’s eyes widened as he swallowed in fear, his stomach twisting and his chest growing tight in pure panic. His hands flew to the small latch on the window behind him, fiddling with the lock. 

“Oh no you don’t.” Liz muttered, grabbing Michael’s hands and pinning them to his sides. 

Michael yelped in fear and tried to move his arms away. He looked at Liz, examining the angry expression on her face. 

“You don’t ever come after my son again, alright boy? You come after him and you will suffer for it!” Liz grumbled. 

“Please, I would never hurt him!” Michael whispered. 

But that’s when Michael realised; that’s exactly what he did. Luke had confessed his love to him and Michael had shot him down so quickly without even a trace of thought behind it. Luke had left in tears and Michael did absolutely nothing. It was so selfish. 

“I’ll believe that when you’re in jail.” Liz mumbled, letting go of Michael and keeping a close eye on him while she pulled out her phone, calling the police. 

Michael gulped nervously as Liz quietly mumbled information to whoever was on the other line. He looked around the small room discreetly, looking for a way out that was easily accessible. The only possible way was the window he tried opening before Liz had interrupted him. 

“Hold up, the reception’s really bad here.” Liz mumbled, mouthing a ‘stay there’ to Michael before stepping down and walking closer to the house.

Michael swallowed nervously and exhaled shakily. Part of his mind told him to stay put, to not make him seem more suspicious but the other part of him told him to run again. Either way, he was likely to get arrested. If he stayed, the police would definitely take him into custody. If he left, chances are someone would spot him and turn him in. Perhaps they’d even use force to get him to the police. 

But he had to take that chance. He had to take the chance and leave the treehouse before Liz got back. He’d have to find another place to stay, perhaps even live down a random alleyway for a while. He’d have to find a way. 

He grabbed one of the many hoodies Luke had given to him and pulled it onto his skinny torso, tugging the hood over his head to somewhat cover his face from outsiders. He shoved a packet of crackers in his pocket along with a half empty bottle of water. He also grabbed his phone even though he knew it was far below flat.

Pushing his hair out of his face, he flicked the latch on the window, pushing it open. He bit his lip at the height, which was about double his height. He slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, facing outside. He hesitated, thinking he’d never see Luke again. For a moment, he even thought about staying, risking getting arrested just to see Luke again, and apologize. 

His gut told him that he needed to go, giving him the final push he needed to jump out of the window, landing quietly on a branch before jumping down on to the ground, stumbling slightly when he landed. 

“Hey!” Liz shouted, getting up from where she was seated. 

Michael gulped and bit his lip, taking a running sprint in the general direction of where he first entered Luke’s backyard. 

“Get back here!” Liz cried, running after Michael. 

Michael ignored her and climbed over the fence. He stood on the other side for a moment, looking around, trying to decide which way he should go. He didn’t even know where he was, since he’d ran here in the dead of night, unable to see where he was going and led only by fear. He could hear Liz fiddling with the locks on the gate and he knew he had to think quickly. 

Well, he actually didn’t think. He ran down the street, dashing through side streets and running through parks. He didn’t stop for what felt like fifteen minutes, finally coming to a halt in a dimly lit alley. He collapsed against the wall, every muscle and joint in his body aching.

Michael closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He felt like he was going to throw up, his vision fading for a moment as he tried to relax. His legs felt like jelly and his chest felt tight but he had to keep going. He had no clue if Liz was still following him, or someone else had recognised him and is now chasing him. 

Michael pushed himself off the wall and slowly stumbled through the alley, too tired to actually keep running. Believe him, he didn’t want to get caught but he didn’t necessarily want to faint and wind up in hospital either. 

Michael wasn’t watching where he was going and he accidentally bumped into another man in an almost identical build as him walking the opposite way. 

“Oi, watch where you’re going!” the guy mumbled. “Fucking grackton.”

“What did you just say?” Michael whispered, grabbing the other guy’s arm.

“What the- Who the fuck are you?” The guy growled, tugging his arm away. 

Michael gasped. He recognised the catchphrase and the particular accent and tone this man had. 

“Calum?” Michael whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

“Calum?” Michael whispered. 

“Who wants to know?” The older man questioned, facing Michael. 

“It’s me, Michael. Michael Clifford.” 

“Mikey?” Calum whispered, taking off his hood with a small smile. 

Michael began to step forward to embrace his long lost friend who he hadn’t seen for at least five years but realisation hit him like a truck. He stepped back. This was the man he saw in the warehouse. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Calum laughed, stepping closer to Michael.

“You- You were the one…” Michael stuttered, swallowing thickly when the words got caught in his throat. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Calum smirked. “Go on, spit it out.”

“Were you the one I saw… In the warehouse two weeks ago?” Michael spluttered.

“That was you who caught me? I was wondering why you were all over the news. Did they think you did it?” Calum wondered, his eyes wide and his mouth twisted into a smirk. 

“You ruined my life,” Michael whispered, his fists tightening at his sides. 

“Please,” Calum scoffed. “I didn’t ruin your life.”

“You did! Because of you, I’m an outlaw!” 

Calum laughed with a shrug of his shoulders, pushing the younger boy’s left shoulder slightly. 

“I’ve got to hand it to you. No one’s ever caught me before. I mean, technically you only caught me in the act. You got caught by the police, not me.” 

“How many people have you killed?” Michael whispered, afraid to know the answer. 

Calum stayed silent, a smirk playing on the edge of his lips. The look dancing in his eyes only hinted at the fact that it was a lot. 

“I’ll hand you to the police.” Michael threatened, gaining a little confidence.

“You wouldn’t. I’m your best friend.” Calum mumbled. 

“Luke’s my-” Michael began, cutting himself off quickly. In actuality, he wasn’t sure whether he and Luke were friends anymore. For all Michael knew, their friendship was over for good, and it had only been two weeks. 

Of course, Michael still cared about Luke, but he wasn’t sure if he’d look at the older boy the same again, knowing that he was in love with them and Michael couldn’t return those feelings. 

“Luke?” Calum voiced, stepping closer again to Michael. “Did you replace me that quickly?”

Michael again stepped back in fear, gulping as his back hit the rough brick wall behind him. Calum had always been the jealous type; his insecurities getting the best of him at times. He used to struggle with the anxiety that made him believe he could be replaced just like that. Now, his panic attacks were replaced by fits of rage, led by fear.

“Calum. You moved five years ago. I was too young to have a phone. You didn’t call my home number. You walked out on the friendship, not me.” Michael whispered. 

Calum stepped closer, his towering height being an intimidating sight for Michael. Michael wasn’t weak, but he knew he couldn’t compete against Calum’s bulging muscles that looked like they’d rip his shirt open. 

“I didn’t do nothing of the sort.” Calum growled. 

Michael snapped his mouth shut, deciding it would be best not to anger the aggressive man further. 

“Got nothing to say, huh?” 

“I’m still turning you in,” Michael mumbled, reaching for his phone, momentarily forgetting it was flat. 

“No you’re not!” Calum yelled, grabbing the younger boy’s wrists and forcefully pinning them above his head, probably drawing blood from the rough walls. 

Michael whimpered and wriggled his arms, trying to pull himself out of Calum’s tight grip. He didn’t know why he tried. The grip was stronger than handcuffs. Suppose that’s why they call it an iron grip. 

“Stop wriggling,” Calum mumbled, shifting his hands so one of his strong hands had Michael pinned alone, using the other to punch Michael directly in his gut to get him to stop. 

It worked, alright. Michael hunched over as far as he could with his arms restrained, his eyes scrunched up tightly in pain. He wished he could fall to his knees and cradle his stomach closely until the pain went away but he knew Calum wasn’t finished with him yet. 

“You’re so weak.” Calum murmured, shaking his head in disgust. “I expected more from you, Mike-Ro-Wave.”

Michael let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and looked up at Calum in pain. For a moment he believed this was all fake, that they were continuing another “epic battle” from their childhood and Calum, Cal-Pal, was simply acting. He knew the theory was ridiculous; Michael could see the genuine anger in Calum’s eyes, a serious expression that showed he was not joking. However, Michael’s hopeful perspective still wished his former best friend wasn’t a murderer. 

“You’re going to regret what you said, Mikey.” Calum grinned evilly, looking at Michael with an intimidating look. 

“Please,” Michael whispered pathetically, closing his eyes for a moment. 

When he opened his eyes, all he saw was Calum’s fist propelling directly into his face in a high speed. The limb connected to his nose, blood spilling out almost instantly. 

“Fuck!” Michael cried, letting tears fall out of his clenched eyes. 

“Hey, don’t swear Mikey,” Calum tutted in Michael’s ear. “What would your mother say?”

Michael whimpered and let his chin drop to his chest. He weakly closed his mouth, trying to stop any blood from flowing into his mouth. It was hard enough to breath as it was. He didn’t need to choke on his own snotty blood to make things worse. 

“Hmm? What would she say?” Calum whispered in Michael’s ear before grabbing it with his forefinger and thumb, yanking it harshly. 

It was a dull pain and it was nothing compared to the searing pain that made his nose throb, but it was painful enough to make the younger boy whimper and jerk his head to the side. 

“I don’t know,” Michael whispered, barely audible. 

“You don’t know, hmm?” Calum questioned, letting go of Michael’s hands and letting him drop to the ground. 

Michael whimpered and spat out the blood that had dripped into his mouth, his arms shaking from the effort of holding him up. 

“You asked how many people I’ve killed?” Calum asked, bending down to get to Michael’s level. 

Michael looked at the older boy weakly, too tired to force a comeback out of his throat. 

“It’s currently at thirteen,” Calum smirked, “soon to be fourteen.” 

Michael’s eyes widened in fear and realisation. He’d never think that his childhood best friend would one day murder him. Even the thought alone doesn’t make sense. It was just so surreal. One day they were play-fighting in Michael’s backyard and a few years later, Calum was standing over him, mercilessly, able to do anything he wanted to do to the vulnerable boy. 

“Please, please don’t.” Michael whimpered pathetically. He’s always seen people do the same in movies and it never works. For some reason, vicious murderers don’t seem to listen to their victim’s helpless cries. 

“Since you are my childhood best friend, I’ll give you a moment.” Calum mumbled, pulling out a gun from his belt. “Any last words?”

Michael whimpered and closed his eyes. He wished he had a cool catchphrase to blurt out, making him remembered but the only thing that came to his mind was an image of Luke. He was smiling, probably laughing at some lame joke Michael had told him. His grin spread over his entire face, lighting up everything around him. His eyes were wrinkled slightly at the corners, forming the perfect “XD” smiley face. 

“I’m sorry, Luke.” Michael whispered, letting his arms give out as he fell to the ground. 

He heard Calum fidgeting with his gun, incoherent swearing flowing from his lips. 

“Why won’t this fucking thing work?!” Calum growled.

Calum yelled in frustration and smashed his gun down on the ground, presumably trying to knock something into place. Michael was about to open his eyes, assuming the gun had ran out of bullets and he’d get away. Oh, he wished more than anything to see Luke again. He was all Michael could think about for two weeks. 

“Fuck’s sake.”

Michael opened his eyes at a crack slightly but it didn’t last long, as suddenly, Calum’s gun came in contact with his temple, hard. Michael whimpered and grabbed his head, writhing around in pain. He felt dizzy. 

“Bye Mikey,” Calum whispered, close to Michael’s ear before Michael could hear quick descending footsteps. 

Michael squirmed and whimpered again as he felt bile rise up in his throat, making him gag. 

“Please,” he whispered, desperately. 

He promptly threw up, crying out in pain as it caused his bruised stomach to lurch. He opened his eyes slightly to see bright headlights coming towards him. He could slowly feel himself drift away from consciousness. 

Someone got out of the car and yelled, asking him if he was okay but all Michael could understand was incoherent blabbers as black spots danced in his vision. He felt someone tap his cheek lightly as everything faded to black as he passed out. 

“Michael! Mikey!”


	7. Chapter 7

“So are you going to tell me why you just showed up here out of the blue, crying your eyes out?” Ashton, Luke’s best friend asked, lying down next to him on the floor. 

“It’s complicated,” Luke murmured, bringing his hands up to his face to rub his eyes.

“I have a 4.8 GPA. I think I’ll understand.” Ashton smiled, looking over at Luke to see his reaction. 

A laugh exploded from Luke’s lips, causing the older boy to laugh as well when Luke muttered a small “Show off.”

“No, but seriously,” Ashton sighed when the laughter had died down. “I’ve been your friend for what, fourteen years now? I’ll understand whatever’s going on, Luke. Don’t worry.”

Luke grumbled and rubbed his face with one hand, playing with his curls in the other. 

“Was your dad giving you trouble about being gay again? I’ve told you, just grab that shovel and just whack,” Ashton grinned, pretending to wave an imaginary shovel around. “You know, maybe hit him smack in the groin.”

Luke laughed again. “Have you never been hit in the nuts before? That shit hurts, man!” 

“Exactly my point.” Ashton grinned. 

The two fell silent again as Luke contemplated telling Ashton or not. He promised Michael he wouldn’t tell anyone about him but he really needed someone to talk to about all this. 

“I can trust you, right?” Luke whispered, rolling over to face the older boy. 

“Yeah, of course.” Ashton smiled, repeating Luke’s action of rolling over to face the other. 

“Did you hear about that Michael Clifford on the news? The one who-”

“The one who murdered Harry.” Ashton mumbled, sitting up and hugging his knees. 

Luke stood up and sat next to his friend, resting a hand on his shoulder. Ashton sniffed and wiped tears out of his eyes. 

“Sorry, continue what you were saying.” Ashton whispered quickly, not looking at Luke. 

“Ash, it’s okay to cry-”

“And what will that do? Crying won’t bring my brother back, Luke! I just want to find that Michael Clifford and bring him to justice! I don’t care if I-”

“He didn’t do it.”

“Wh- What?” 

“He didn’t do it,” Luke repeated, biting his nails. 

“And how do you know he ‘didn’t do it’? He was at the scene! Police saw him with my brother!” Ashton yelled, looking at Luke in confusion. 

“He told me.” 

“He what?! You’ve met him?” Ashton gasped. 

“He hid in my treehouse for two weeks. Please, I trust him. I don’t know who did it but I know it wasn’t him.” Luke spoke quickly, playing with his hands. 

“I need to sit down,” Ashton mumbled, putting his head in his hands. 

“Ash, you are sitting down.” Luke mumbled, putting an arm around Ashton. 

“I want to fucking kill him,” Ashton spat, clenching his fists and death-staring the wall in front of him. The sudden tone took Luke by surprise, as his previous tone was quite weak and small. “I want to fucking kill whoever touched my brother!”

“Ashton, I know your upset but-”

“Luke, shut up. If it wasn’t this Michael dude, I’m gonna fucking find out who did this and kill them! And if you’re wrong, you’re just as bad ‘cause you helped him.” Ashton mumbled, standing up. 

“Ash-”

“Where is he?” 

“He’s at my house but you can’t hurt him, please! He didn’t do it, trust me!” Luke begged, standing up as well. 

“And how do you know?” Ashton asked. 

“He came to my house straight after it happened. He didn’t have any blood on him but he’d been shaking and crying. He was spooked. Please, I trust his word.” 

“Why do you trust him so much?”

“Because I love him!” Luke shouted, throwing his arms up. 

Ashton snapped his mouth shut and looked at Luke in shock. 

“What?” He whispered. 

“I’m sorry! I can’t help it! He’s just- Fuck, he’s not even gay, Ashton. That’s why I’m here. I told him I loved him and he said he was straight.” Luke whispered, turning away from Ashton so he wouldn’t see him cry. 

“Luke...” Ashton sighed, putting a hand on Luke’s back. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled. “I just can’t lose him.”

“Then let’s go to him.”

Luke snapped his head to look at Ashton and smiled softly. 

“You mean it?” Luke smiled. 

“Innocent until proven guilty.” Ashton nodded.

Luke smiled.

“What’s going on?” Luke whispered, noticing the police cars around his house. 

Ashton stopped the car and got out, a confused look on his face.

“Shit.” Luke gasped, running inside with Ashton following close behind. 

Luke ran to his living room, seeing at least six policemen looking around the room with one talking to his mum by the tv.

“He was in the treehouse. I don’t know how long he was there for but I caught him about half an hour ago.” Liz told the policeman. 

“Mum,” Luke mumbled, “what are they all doing here?”

“Luke, sweetie, someone was hiding in your treehouse. That murderer from the news.”

“Where is he?” Luke yelled. “Where’s Michael?!”

“Kid, the boy escaped. How about you sit down and we can have a chat, yeah?” The policeman spoke softly, putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder. 

Luke shook his head and stepped back, trying to make sense of the whole situation. 

“Luke, it’s okay. We’ll find him.” Ashton whispered. He put his hands on the younger boy’s shoulders and tried pulling him back. 

Luke shrugged his shoulders quickly to shake Ashton’s hands off of him and walked in front of his mum. 

“Where is he?!” Luke yelled. 

“Honey, he got away. Don’t worry, he’ll go to jail where he belongs.” Liz whispered, opening her arms to hug the raging boy. 

“HE DIDN’T KILL ANYONE!” Luke shouted, shoving his mum’s hands away with force. 

“Luke!” She and Ashton gasped. 

“Kid, we’ve got evidence that-”

“NO! YOU ONLY HAVE EVIDENCE HE WAS THERE WHEN HARRY WAS DEAD! HOW DO YOU KNOW HE DIDN’T COME AFTER? HOW DO YOU KNOW HE DIDN’T FIGHT OFF THE ACTUAL MURDERER? CHECK YOUR FACTS, OFFICER. HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” Luke screamed at the officer, his hands shaking. 

By now every officer in the room was staring at Luke in shock. They’d witnessed plenty of outbreaks in their time but this was one to still get their attention. 

“Luke, calm down,” Ashton whispered, again trying to pull Luke back. 

“No, I will NOT calm down! I need to find him, Ashton!” Luke yelled, turning around and walking back to his front door. 

“Get out of my way,” he murmured to an officer, pushing past him to leave the house.

“...consider therapy for him, Mrs Hemmings.” The main officer spoke quietly. 

“He doesn’t need therapy. He’s probably just shaken up from the shock.” Liz mumbled. 

“Ma’am, I know mental illness when I see it. Your son needs to book an appointment with a phycologist.” 

Ashton scoffed and turned on his foot. He too pushed past the officer standing at the door to get outside. He found Luke sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, trying to figure out how to turn it on. 

“Never driven a manual, have you?” Ashton asked, leaning on the edge of the open window. 

“No, this isn’t my car. I’m learning in an automatic. Why do you drive this shit?” Luke grumbled, getting beyond frustrated. 

“Move over. I’ll drive.” 

Luke climbed over the glove box and sat in the passenger seat, doing his seatbelt up and impatiently tapping his foot on the floor. Ashton quickly clambered into the driver’s seat and began to drive. 

As the two drove in silence, Luke was getting worried, anxiously biting his lip and fingernails. He had a bad feeling something happened to Michael. 

“You alright Luke?” Ashton asked, momentarily looking over to the shaking boy. 

“I have a bad feeling,” Luke mumbled, voicing his thoughts out loud. 

“He’s gonna be okay.”

“But what if-” 

“He’s gonna be okay.”

“But it’s getting dark! What if we can’t find him?”

“We will. He’ll be okay.”

Luke sighed with a small smile and stared out the window. Michael could be anywhere. Perhaps he was hiding in someone else’s backyard. Perhaps he was squatting in a random dangerous side street. Perhaps the real murderer had found him and tried to-

“Luke. Breathe.” Ashton prompted, gently rubbing Luke’s knee. 

Luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus on the chance Michael would be okay. 

“Okay tell me what he looks like,” Ashton mumbled. “So I can spot him.”

“Brown h- hair. His fringe is cut short on one side and goes across his forehead longer on the other. A- About my height. H- He was wearing black jeans and a tank top when I left him b- but he might’ve changed. U- Um... The only shoes he had were beige boots and- STOP THE CAR!” 

Luke had spotted someone down a dark alleyway that looked scarily close to Michael. 

Ashton quickly slammed on the breaks and let Luke climb out of the car, following close behind. 

“No, no, no! Mikey? Are you okay? Can you hear me?!” Luke yelled, dropping to his knees in front of the barely conscious boy. 

Ashton stood behind Luke cautiously, observing the situation. He was starting to believe that this boy in front of him wasn’t the one who murdered his brother, but rather, it was whoever had attacked Michael. 

“Mikey, wake up. Wake up!” Luke yelled, tapping Michael’s cheek lightly to wake him up. 

Ashton bit his lip and kneeled down next to Michael, trying to avoid the small puddle of bloody vomit on the ground. 

“Michael! Mikey!” Luke cried. “Ash, I don’t think he’s breathing!” 

Ashton gently pressed his fingers on Michael’s neck, trying to find his pulse. 

“He is. C’mon, let’s get him in the car before we’re spotted.” Ashton mumbled. 

Luke nodded and scooped the younger boy up in his arms, kissing him softly on the forehead before laying him down across the back seat. He opted to sit in the back with Michael, to make sure he was alright. 

They drove back to Ashton’s house quickly, Luke’s hand never leaving Michael’s. 

“Please be okay, please be okay.” Luke chanted quietly, more to himself.

Luke was on the verge of having a panic attack but he did his best to hold off. Their main problem now was Michael. Luke didn’t want to burden Ashton with two passed out bodies. 

Almost as soon as they got Michael on the couch, he mumbled, showing signs he was waking up. Luke kneeled down next to him, desperately waiting for him to open his eyes. Ashton quickly walked to the kitchen and warmly wet a flannel to wash off Michael's nose. He handed it to Luke, deciding it would be better for someone closer to the youngest boy to be... closer to him. With as little pressure as he could, Luke wiped off the blood from Michael’s nose and mouth, also cleaning up small streaks of vomit coming from the corner of his mouth. 

“Ow,” Michael mumbled. 

“Mikey?” Luke whispered, looking into Michael’s now open eyes. 

“Luke...”

“What happened, Mikey? Who did this to you?” Luke asked desperately, sitting up slightly. 

“C- Calum,” Michael mumbled, sitting up slightly. “Calum Hood.” 

“Calum who?” Ashton asked, unable to hear Michael’s mumbles but eager to know the name. 

“Hood. W- We were best friends when we were younger a- and then he moved. I thought I’d never see him again, Luke. I was wrong. So, so wrong.” Michael whispered, tears leaking out of his eyes. He took a deep breath, composing himself as Luke and Ashton listened silently, waiting until he was ready to keep talking. 

“I just bumped into him in an alleyway... He got mad because he thought I replaced him. I mean I kinda did but I didn’t mean to hurt him... But he got mad and hit me. He wanted to kill me. He’s killed thirteen people, Luke! Thirteen! THIRTEEN PEOPLE! THIRTEEN INNOCENT PEOPLE! DID YOU HEAR ME? THIRTEEN.” Michael cried out, his entire body racking with sobs. 

Luke stayed silent, helplessly watching his crush get destroyed from the inside out by his trauma. He didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t something that happened every day and he wasn’t exactly educated in this particular problem. 

Ashton also stayed silent, battling his own thoughts. It had only been two weeks since this Calum Hood murdered his brother and he wasn’t going to get better overnight. This shit still hurts. 

“Lukey,” Michael whimpered, making grabby hands at the blonde boy. 

Luke held Michael’s hand gently, rubbing it softly. 

“I don’t wanna go to jail,” Michael whispered, a fresh batch of tears forming in his eyes. 

“Oh, honey. You’re not going to jail. Ashton or I won’t ever let you go for something you didn’t do. No one will find you. We’re going to find Calum and take him down. I mean-”

“He killed my brother,” Ashton spoke up suddenly. 

“I’m so sorry,” Michael whispered. 

Ashton pressed his lips together tightly and looked off. Fat tears slid down his face which he was quick to wipe away. It was the first time he’d let tears fall down his face in days and he hated it. He hated being so vulnerable and weak, unable to stop himself from exposing his feelings. 

“Ash...” Luke whispered, standing up and hugging the eldest boy. 

Ashton pushed him away, harder than he intended. He needed space. He backed up to a wall and slid down it, curling up into himself. He let himself cry for the first time in weeks, hard sobs replacing his previous numb feeling. 

“Oh, Ash...”

He sobbed harder, his entire body racking. His chest felt tight and his heart ached. He missed his brother so much. He missed his obnoxious laugh and his surprise hugs. He missed wiping the tears of his eyes when he’d been bullied at school. He missed staying up until past midnight to help him with his math homework that neither of them understood. He missed sneakily grabbing chocolate from the fridge when they were finished and sneaking off to their rooms without waking their mum up. He missed when Harry was a toddler, and whenever he needed to go to the bathroom, he would shout “I HAVE TO POOP!” while running past Ashton’s room, to the bathroom. He missed everything about Harry and it was just so unreal how he was so suddenly not there. It was all Calum Hood’s fault. He ripped his innocent, cheery brother away from him. He was the reason Ashton couldn’t ever help Harry with his homework, steal chocolate for or hear his laugh again. 

“Oh, stop crying, you scrawny pig.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Oh, stop crying, you scrawny pig.” 

Ashton, Michael and Luke all whipped their heads towards the voice. A man, probably Ashton’s age, was standing in the hallway, a smirk obvious on his lips. 

Luke was the first to stand up. 

“Who do you think you are? Get out!” Luke shouted. 

“Calum,” Michael whispered, his voice wavering. 

Ashton stood up slowly and silently. So this was the one. 

“Mikey!” Calum grinned, stepping closer to Michael. 

Calum gently grazed a finger under Michael’s chin, tracing it up to his still slightly swollen nose. He pushed it lightly before ghosting his fingertips up to the small gash on the side of his head, locating the spot where Calum had swung the barrel of his gun across his head hours prior. 

Michael whimpered softly and closed his eyes, too afraid to move away. 

“Oh Mikey, just who did this to you?” Calum whispered, putting on his best sad face. 

“Calum- P- Please, leave me alone,” Michael whispered. 

“Oh, come on, Mikey. You know how much I want to make it fourteen.” Calum grinned, slowly bringing his hand to his pocket where everyone suspected his gun to be. “I’ll kill you right in front of these twats you replaced me with.” 

“Leave him alone!” Luke shouted. 

“Oh, but we’re just getting started. It’s always so fun to kill!” 

“YOU TOUCH HIM AND I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU’LL REGRET IT SO FUCKING MUCH. I’M GONNA-”

“What? Call the police?” Calum mocked. “Oh, no! Not the police I’ve escaped thirteen times already!” 

“Calum,” Michael suddenly spoke up. 

“What?” Calum growled. 

“Don’t hurt them. Please, I’ll do what you want. Just don’t hurt them.” Michael begged, sitting up.

“No, Michael!” Luke cried, lunging forward, only to be pulled back by Ashton. “Ashton, he’ll kill him!”

“No, he won’t,” Ashton whispered in Luke’s ear. 

“Hmm? What luck. I just fixed my gun. Proved me useful last time. Killed some kid, Harry. Watching him squirm around in those chains? Fuck it was-”

Before anyone could react, Ashton lunged forward and pushed Calum to the ground, landing on top of him. 

“You killed my brother!” Ashton cried, his fists flying to Calum’s face. 

“Get off of me!” Calum yelled, using one hand to cock his gun. 

“Ashton!” Luke cried. 

“No!” Michael screamed. 

“YOU TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ME, YOU BASTARD!” 

“It was fucking great, too.” Calum grinned, looking Ashton directly in the eyes. “One of my favourite deaths so far. I let him suffer for hours until he was begging for death. I’m a nice guy. I gave it to him.”

Ashton stopped his fists and sat still for a moment. He could picture his baby brother, lying on the floor, writhing around in pain. He could hear him whispering to himself, saying “please, just kill me. Please.”

Bang.

Calum had taken Ashton’s shocked pose as an opportunity, not wasting a second as he shot Ashton, aiming for his heart, but instead hitting his shoulder. 

Ashton screamed and leapt up, tripping over himself and hitting his back on the same wall he sat against earlier. His good hand flew to his shoulder, protecting it from the world as he weakly slid down the wall, blood staining the white paintwork.

“ASHTON!” Luke cried. 

Calum slowly got up and stood over Ashton, preparing his gun to shoot him again. Ashton’s eyes were squeezed shut, his face contorted in pain. Harsh breaths fell from his lips as he pushed himself into the wall, trying to do anything to somehow numb the pain. 

“Ashton…” Luke sobbed, covering his mouth with his hand. 

“Now, slow and painful or quick and painless? It’s your choice,” Calum grinned. 

“DON’T TOUCH HIM! WE HAD A DEAL!” Michael yelled.

Ashton’s face was quickly growing pale as his head lolled forward, his chin falling on his chest. Although it deeply terrified Luke and Michael, it was no surprise he passed out. Calum tutted and lifted his head up with the barrel of his gun. 

“So weak. Ruined all the fun,” Calum sighed. “Mikey, pick a place on his body. I’ll shoot him there. Go on, pick a place.”

“UP YOUR ASS!” Luke yelled, jumping up behind Calum with a heavy-duty torch. 

Even Calum didn’t have enough time to react before Luke hit him over the head with it, sending the man unconscious. Luke hit him a few more times, just to make sure he was completely unconscious, before dragging him off to the side. He knelt down in front of Ashton, softly tapping his face.

“I- Is he okay?” Michael asked worriedly. “This is all my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Luke didn’t respond but instead brought his phone out and called emergency services. 

“How do you think he found us?” Michael wondered aloud as Luke used a pillow to stop Ashton’s wound from bleeding. 

“Mike, go get some bandages from the bathroom.”

Michael nodded and stood up, coming to a halt when he realised that he didn’t actually know where the bathroom was. 

“Um... Where’s the-”

Luke sighed. “Hold this here. I’ll get them.”

Michael took Luke’s place on the floor and held the pillow tightly to Ashton’s shoulder. Luke got up and walked up the stairs to the bathroom. 

Behind him, Calum began to stir. He rubbed his head and groaned. However, Michael was too lost in his thoughts to realise this. Calum contemplated whether to drag Michael out of the house and torture him or to simply escape the police again. He decided to go with the latter. Picking up his gun and stuffing it into his pocket, he quietly slipped out of the house, gone into the darkness again. 

Outside, Calum stood still. He wanted nothing but for Michael to suffer. Michael had taken away their friendship, why shouldn’t he pay? He smirked to himself, picturing Michael’s head thrown back, crying out in pain as Calum tortured him mercilessly with various different tools. That was how Calum worked. He found his victim, usually some random stranger he found on the street, and tortured them for hours, sometimes days even. When he eventually had had enough with the victim, he’d finally kill him. But Michael had actually personally hurt Calum. This wasn’t just some rando’ on the street that Calum felt like torturing. What Michael did infuriated Calum and only made him want to hurt him more.

Turning on his foot, Calum decided he would go back for Michael, take him when the time was right. 

He snuck back into the house, quietly scoffing at Michael’s shaking body. He could tell he was crying, even though he could only see his back. He hid around the corner, where he’d hidden before and waited for a moment to make sure everything was clear before he snuck upstairs. He slipped into a random room, peeking out stealthily. Luke walked out of another room and downstairs. Calum looked around and snuck into that room, discovering it to be the bathroom. He grinned to himself and hid behind the shower curtain, waiting for Michael to be spooked by the cops and run up here like Calum knew he would. 

Luke came back downstairs carrying a first aid kit in one hand and a box of painkillers in the other. He knelt down in front of Ashton and took his shirt off without jostling his shoulder. Once he was sure he’d stopped the majority of the blood flow, he gently placed a cotton gauze over the wound and gently wrapped his shoulder up in a bandage. 

“Come on, Ashton. I need you to wake up for me,” Luke whispered, softly tapping Ashton’s face. “C’mon, please.”

Michael sighed and stood up. He turned around and began to pace worriedly. When he span on his foot, he solemnly noticed Calum wasn’t lying on the floor where’d they left him. 

“Luke...” Michael whispered. 

“What, Michael?! Can’t you see I’m busy worrying about Ashton?!” Luke yelled, glaring at Michael.

“Yes, but-”

“No. No buts. Ashton’s just been shot and all I need to do is make sure he’s okay.” 

Michael contemplated trying to tell Luke again or staying silent. This was obviously a problem they should both deal with but it seemed only logical to wait until at least the paramedics got there. 

“Wait, did you call an ambulance?” Michael gulped. 

“Yeah, and police too. We could get your head checked out as well.” Luke mumbled. 

“I- Um...” Michael whispered, backing up to a wall. 

“Mikey, just tell them the truth. Stop hiding away. We have the real murderer.” 

“No, we don’t.” Michael mumbled suddenly.

“What? Calum’s right th- Where’s Calum?!” 

“I don’t know. I tried to tell you earlier-”

“Go after him! Find him, Michael!”

“I don’t want to go looking for him,” Michael mumbled, his hands shaking slightly. 

“You have to. I have to stay here with Ashton.” 

“Luke, please...” Michael whispered, a tear flowing down his cheek. 

“You’ll be okay. I just want you to try and find out where he is. Stay at a safe distance. Come back here when you find him. Don't interact with him. You got that?” Luke asked, getting up and standing in front of Michael. 

Michael whimpered and shook his head, letting more tears slip down his face. 

Luke sighed and looked Michael in the eye. He had the strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, to make the pain go away but Michael had already rejected him once. He didn’t want to deal with the pain again. 

“I’m not going after him,” Michael mumbled. “I’m terrified. He nearly killed me once. Who’s to say he won’t do it again?” 

Luke sighed and nodded, putting his head in his hand. He felt guilty for not considering Michael’s fears and what Calum had done to him. Part of him just desperately wanted to get his revenge on the psycho. Calum Hood had hurt two of the people he loved the most and it angered him beyond belief how easily he could get away with it all. 

“You're right. I’m sorry,” Luke sighed, rubbing Michael’s arm gently. “I’m just mad. Mad at Calum. Mad at myself. Mad at the world.” 

“I- It’s okay,” Michael mumbled, dropping his gaze on the floor. 

“Police, open up!” 

Michael gasped and looked at Luke in fear. He quickly broke out in a sweat as his hands began to shake, his breathing becoming rapid. 

“Mikey, it’s okay, just breathe! You didn’t do anything!” Luke whisper-shouted. 

“But we don’t have Calum! They still think I did it, Luke!” Michael whispered louder. 

“Michael! It’ll be okay, I promise. Just tell them the truth. They have no reason to arrest you.”

“Yes they do! I was the only one with Harry and now I’m here with Ashton! I haven’t stopped running from them in two weeks! Don’t you see how suspicious that makes me look?” Michael cried, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Michael. Please, it’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry. I have to go somewhere else.” Michael whispered, closing his eyes momentarily.

“Look, Ashton has a secret room in his wardrobe. We used to hang out there when we were younger. It’s just behind the Blink-182 poster.” Luke whispered, trying to calm the younger boy down. 

“We’re knocking down the door!” The police warned.

“Go, you’ll be okay,” Luke whispered. 

Michael nodded and ran upstairs to what he assumed was Ashton’s room. He peeled back the poster just as he heard the door get knocked down. He gulped and pushed the “wall” slightly, gasping as it swung open. He clambered inside and shut the door behind him, collapsing on the floor. The room was bigger than he expected. Not bigger than an average bedroom, but it was slightly smaller than an average bathroom. White fairy lights were hung from the roof, lazily dangling down in long strands. He turned them on, needing some light and he prayed to god that the bright illuminate couldn’t be seen from outside. He looked around the small room and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sat down on one of the black beanbags and sighed, imagining himself sat on Luke’s grey beanbag instead, back in the treehouse.

“Just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Michael whispered to himself. “Again.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, reminiscing about the last two weeks. He thought about how kind Luke had been to him all that time. He wasn’t scared that some stranger was in his house. He was kind and sympathetic, giving Michael everything he needed. Privacy during the day, food at night, extra clothes and practically everything else. He’s just the most kind-hearted person Michael had ever met. 

Then he thought about earlier that day. “I love you,” Luke had said. Michael told him he wasn’t gay— he’d never had a crush on a guy before. The look of hurt on Luke’s face broke Michael’s heart. The way Luke’s eyes clouded over and his face dropped. The way he dug his fingernails into his ankles, drawing blood. The way tears after tears slipped down his face, staining his plump cheeks. 

Michael realised in that moment “oh shit, I think I do love him,”. He wasn’t actually sure what made him realise it, but he was sure that it was true. All he could think about was Luke. When he was sure he was going to die, all he thought about was Luke. When he was drifting in and out of consciousness in the car, all that kept him grounded was the thought about Luke. 

You don’t just think about just anyone in these situations. Only someone you love. 

He felt an ache in his heart. He wanted nothing more than to just go downstairs and hug Luke, tell him how he felt but he knew he had to wait until all of this blew over. 

But still, he couldn’t shake the feeling in his chest that trailed down to the pit of his stomach. 

Nope. He just had to take a piss. 

He swore told himself and listened intently to the outside world. He could hear paramedics loudly helping Ashton, trying to wake him up and keep him alive. He could hear Luke trying to tell the police who shot him but the police didn’t seem to be having any of it. 

“It was this guy; his name is Calum Hood. He ran away. This isn’t who you think it is!” Luke yelled. 

Michael knew it was a really shitty time to leave the room but he knew he was going to piss himself if he stayed any longer. 

Fuck it, he’s going. 

He stood up slowly, keeping his ears perked as he listened out for any unwanted noise. He climbed out of the small room and tried many different door handles, until he got to the bathroom. 

He stood in front of toilet, unzipping his jeans. His whole body heaved with a sigh of relief when he could finally let go of his stream. He finished up quickly and flushed the toilet, finishing by washing his hands. Just as he was dying them off with a towel, he heard the sound of a shower curtain being pulled back, making his heart stop in its tracks. 

“Look who we have here,” the voice spoke. 

“Calum,” Michael whispered, turning around quickly. 

Calum stepped closer to Michael and cupped his cheek with his hand, tutting quietly. 

“I wonder how long you’ll last,” Calum wondered, turning Michael’s head on different angles for observation. 

“Calum, please. I’m sorry for whatever I did. Please, don’t hurt me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Michael begged, tears forming in his eyes.

“Cry as much as you want, Mike,” Calum growled. “It’s not gonna change anything.”

Michael gulped shakily and looked into Calum’s eyes. He tried to reach behind him to grab something to attack Calum with, but he could grasp nothing but air. 

“Jump,” Calum whispered. 

“Wh- What?” Michael asked, his eyes widening in confusion. 

“Jump out the window,” Calum mumbled. “We’re leaving.”

“No- I... I won’t-”

“Do it.”

Michael looked towards the door, hearing thundering footsteps coming up the stairs. 

“I’m telling you, no one’s up here! I’d tell you if there was!”

Luke. 

“Go wait in the ambulance, kid.” 

Calum snarled and looked at Michael with a cold stare. 

“Fucking jump.” He mumbled, pushing Michael over to the closed window. 

“Calum, I’m not-”

Calum silenced Michael by roughly shoving his hand on his mouth. He used the other hand to open the window and push Michael towards it. 

“No!” Michael cried. 

“Go!” Calum hissed. 

Michael pushed against the window ledge, not giving into Calum’s shoving. They were on a second story; he wasn’t about to just jump out. 

“Fuck’s sake Michael. You’re so difficult,” Calum groaned with a roll of his eyes, giving Michael another shove, successfully knocking him out of the window.


End file.
